


Top 10 reasons why I, Michael Mell, am in love with my best friend

by orphan_account



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Slow Burn, fluffy boys are fluffy, nothing graphic, vague sensory overload
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 16:21:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29827650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: [Not actually in 1st person][Unfinished :(]Is it really possible to stay around someone for twelve years of your life and not eventually fall in love with them?Michael supposes no: here’s ten reasons why
Relationships: Jeremy Heere & Michael Mell, Jeremy Heere/Michael Mell
Comments: 1
Kudos: 21





	1. He’s stuck by my side for twelve years (and counting)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this list is brought to you by WatchMojo

“Do you remember how we first met?” Jeremy asked absently, taking another drink of his slushie as Michael hummed in thought, his gaze drifting to the ceiling. They were both lounging in Michael’s basement again, sprawled across their respective beanbags and paying no attention to whatever crappy rom-com was on the TV, instead entertaining themselves with conversation.

“Hum, I think so?” Michael nodded once, gesturing vaguely, “The kindergarten milk carton thing, right?”

“Yeah!” Jeremy grinned, sitting up from his leant-back position and resting his hands on his knees to gesture more comfortably, “We were partnered together to hand out those dumb cartons of milk to each kid at recess.” Michael laughed stupidly at the memory, despite it being fuzzy with age.

“Our entire friendship was built on a carton of milk.” He commented, sending both him and Jeremy into a fit of giggles at how stupid that seemed; everything they meant to each other, those twelve years that bonded them so closely, was all because some teacher told them to hand out milk together when they were four.

“Oh, do you remember moving to middle school?” Jeremy exclaimed, leaning back again to stare at the ceiling, “That was terrifying.”

“You came to my house at 9pm that night to cry to me; of course I remember that!” Michael grinned, elbowing Jeremy in the ribs and only laughing at the faux-angry hit he got in reply as Jeremy huffed, crossing his arms.

“I was anxious! Can you really blame me?” He argued, picking up Michael’s slushie and shoving his own straw into it to take a sip, not that either of them minded.

“Yeah but that was overkill, Jere,” Michael pointed a lazy finger in a loose finger-gun motion, “Oh, oh! Remember that one time you tripped and landed head-first in a bush in front of your crush—“

Before Michael could finish the embarrassing story, Jeremy leapt forward and tackled him, making Michael yelp before he laughed loudly, absently wrapping his arms around Jeremy, who showed no signs of moving from literally laying on top of his friend. (Michael would’ve thought too hard about the position in any other circumstance, but he’d be the first to admit that they’d had a few hits between them, so his hyperawareness of every touch had calmed.)

“You- You’re squishing me!” Michael wheezed, lightly shoving Jeremy to little avail, “I can’t breathe, Jere!”

“Bringing up my embarrassing middle school stories is punishable by death!” Jeremy huffed, though he was clearly making an effort not to jut his elbow into Michael, which he appreciated.

“You’re such an idiot.” There was no bite behind the words, but Michael barked them out anyway, sending them both into yet another fit of laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Michael and Jeremy share slushies don’t @ me


	2. He respects my needs and boundaries like his own

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW://  
> vague panic attack/sensory overload (not too graphic)

Michael wasn’t in history.

It wouldn’t have been so weird if it were any other lesson — he’d always had a tendency to skip some classes if he was feeling overwhelmed or couldn’t deal with it at the time — but this was  _ history _ , his favourite lesson. Even so, whenever he bunked, he’d always message Jeremy or warn him beforehand so they knew where each other were at all times, but this was the third time that Jeremy had checked his phone in five minutes and there was still nothing.

He’d _seen_ Michael earlier that day. It’s not like he was ill or anything; he hadn’t even mentioned being in a bad mood, or wanting to skip out on any classes! This, Jeremy decided right then and there, was weird.

“Can I go to the bathroom please?” Jeremy asked, raising a hand (usually, he’d be far too anxious to even think about asking in the middle of lesson, but his protective instincts overrode any nerves he had). If not to find Michael, he could at least throw some water in his face and calm himself somewhat.

“I don’t know, can you?” The teacher snarked, not a single person in the class laughing. Jeremy sighed.

“May I go to the bathroom?”

“Don’t take too long.” As soon as the permission was given, Jeremy stood and hurried to the corridor, letting himself breathe for a moment before heading for the bathroom. He could wash his face, then check all of Michael’s usual bunking spots in any hopes of finding him. With a sigh, he pulled out his phone, scanning over his message history with his best friend: no reply to his four text messages.

Was five messages too much? Probably, but he sent it anyway. ‘ _Omw to look for u_ ’.

Within a moment, he’d reached the boys’ bathroom, pocketing his phone and pushing the door open. The restroom itself wasn’t much to look at, just five stalls (one of which had a broken lock and another with a roll of toilet paper shoved into it which hadn’t been fixed yet), a few sinks with splatters of questionable substances near them, and the usual bathroom graffiti scrawled on every wall.

Not particularly wanting to spend more time than needed in the disgusting place, Jeremy hurried to the sink, running the cold water tap and cupping it in his hands, splashing it into his face before turning the tap off, feeling his mind clear of the white noise. As he rubbed his temples in some attempt to dull the throb of an anxious headache that was beginning to form, a small noise caught his attention from the corner of the bathroom. His movements stilled and he stayed silent, ears pricking to listen out for the noise once again.

There were a few moments of deafening silence before it sounded out again; it sounded like a small sniffle, which was followed by a choked sob a few moments later, the person clearly trying to keep themselves quiet. Spotting the glimmer of chance that it could be Michael, Jeremy quietly approached the farthest bathroom stall, not wanting to startle his friend into a panic attack. The door was ajar, so Jeremy took the opportunity to nudge it open softly, peeking inside and expecting to see a bright red hoodie.

He’d never been so sad to be right.

There Michael was, on the floor of the stall, hood up and covering his face as he shook. His knees were drawn up to his chest and his arms hugged around them, keeping himself in a ball, as if trying to block out the world around him. Every tiny sound made him jerk, even when Jeremy settled next to him on the floor and pushed the door back shut. (The ground was grimy and horrible, making him mentally note to wash his hands and maybe shower later.)

They stayed in that silence for a few moments, not a glance passed between them, until Jeremy spoke, wanting to find out what was wrong.

“Micha?” He asked, noticing Michael’s flinch and softening his voice, “Are you okay?” That same silence hung overhead and Jeremy almost sighed, “Can you speak to me?” He took this moment to realise how Michael was picking at the material on his shoelaces, fiddling with it between his thumb and forefinger, “Micha—“

“Shut up!” Michael finally shouted, slamming his hands over his hooded ears and squeezing his eyes shut. Jeremy could now see the clear tear stains streaking his cheeks and how his glasses sat askew on his nose, “Shut up! Quiet! Shut up!”

He didn’t exactly need to be told twice.

Jeremy nodded once, not wanting to scare Michael with any sudden movement as they stayed sitting on the floor, watching as his friend relaxed his shoulders and let them slump as his arms dropped to the ground, staring at nothing with glassy eyes. They must’ve stayed there for a while because the bell soon rang, once again making Michael flinch and slam his hands over his ears.

“Touch?” Jeremy was careful about his volume, softening his voice beyond anything he’d normally do to ask the question, relieved when Michael nodded silently, gaze still stuck to where the wall met the floor. Within a moment, Jeremy’s arm was around Michael, helping him up and guiding him to stay stable on his feet.

“Here.” Jeremy took the white headphones from Michael’s neck and passed them to him, smiling when he carefully put them over his ears without music, letting them muffle the noise of the thousand students stampeding through the halls to run home first. They stood there for a while, until the noise outside was more bearable, when Jeremy guided Michael to the hallway and held him close as they walked.

Spare for a quick stop at the lockers to grab their respective bags, the pair headed straight outside, taking their iconic shortcut to avoid the onslaught of students outside and walking silently down the street, the only sounds being the occasional hum of a car passing by and the distant shouts of the popular kids heading the opposite way.

In that moment, with an arm around his shoulders and silent headphones on his head, Michael realised just how much he loved his best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> caring boys are caring for ~1k words


	3. He always forgives me (even if I was a jerk)

The most notable thing about the school library was probably the smell: somehow it always had this aroma of old books, Axe body spray, energy drinks, and faint citrus from where each of the tables had been cleaned. Beanbags were settled in one corner by the history non-fiction, and despite how comfortable they looked, Michael had rightfully decided that sitting on the beanbags in the public school filled with horny teenagers wasn’t the best idea, so instead, he and Jeremy had chosen a small table in the opposite corner.

They didn’t visit the library often — mostly because a Switch was much more entertaining — but Michael had actually decided to study for his next physics exam after zoning out the entire term since he needed a passing grade. It was boring and repetitive, but Michael could deal with it if it meant he didn’t need to face the wrath of the school grading system: Jeremy, however, wasn’t as keen to learn.

“Michaelll...” Jeremy droned, dragging the name out for longer than he needed to, “How much longer? I want to go play Smash!”

“Just another fifteen minutes, dude.” Michael assured, though he was only met with more groaning and a head slammed into the table. Jeremy had been complaining the entire time despite Michael offering for him to leave and to be honest, it was getting tedious.

“You’re such a tryhard,” Jeremy whined and Michael’s jaw tensed. He knew Jere hadn’t meant it, but the comments were just so  _ annoying _ , “Nerd.” At that, Michael groaned, looking away from the screen for a split second to glare at Jeremy.

“Can you shut the fuck up for one moment?” He growled, and the words clearly shocked Jeremy as he blinked twice, lips parted.

“I was just—"

“I’m trying to concentrate and you’re acting like the goddamn SQUIP is back.” He knew the words were bad the moment they left his mouth. As the realisation settled of what he’d just said — what he’d just  _ implied  _ — Jeremy stood from his seat, grabbing his backpack and not bothering to tuck his chair back in before he sprinted out of the library, much to the librarian’s protest. 

The sudden silence was deafening, so Michael dropped his head into his hands, covering his ears and squeezing his eyes shut because  _ oh god _ . He’d actually just compared Jeremy making stupid comments to the SQUIP, the most traumatic event of their lives. Why the fuck had he said that?! Michael wasn’t sure how long he mentally berated himself before the teacher tapped his shoulder, telling him that the library was closing and he needed to leave. With a sigh, he packed his study supplies away.

He would apologise tomorrow.

  
  


He couldn’t wait until tomorrow.

Jeremy’s window was easy to find because of how often Michael had been around his house; it was practically his home-away-from-home at this point, and despite the night sky not offering him much light, he found what he wanted soon enough. Armed with a fistful of small pebbles, Michael took one between his thumb and index finger, leaning back and chucking the rock at Jeremy’s window, watching it fall back to the ground with a clunk.

It took a few hits, but eventually, Jeremy opened his window and looked down, spotting Michael and scowling. 

“What?” He barked, watching as Michael dropped his stones, letting them scatter on the floor.

“I’M SORRY!” Michael shouted, cupping his hands to emphasise his point. There was a flicker of an unreadable expression before Jeremy closed his window again and whatever glimmer of hope Michael had was extinguished in a moment. This was it, he’d single-handedly destroyed his only friendship with a few words; now he’d have to run away to Turkey and change his name to John Palmer to live as a boat fisherman.

As he contemplated his new identity, Jeremy appeared in front of him, having walked outside to talk to him.

_Oh_. Michael felt stupid.

“Micha...” Jeremy began, tone unreadable as Michael listened, “What you did was, uh, kind of a dick move.”

“I know, I know--“ Michael agreed, holding his hands up in faux-surrender, “It was really shitty of me to say that. I should never have even bought it up. I was just mad and trying to focus, but that’s not really an excuse... Just, I’m sorry. I won’t say stuff like that again.”

“And I’ll be more mindful of how you’re feeling and not just continuously complain and distract you from important stuff.” Jeremy nodded once before holding his arms out, “Can we, uh, hug it out? I don’t want to stay mad at you.”

“Of course.”

Jeremy was warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> poorly-written but here are the boys


End file.
